


Lyme

by steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeb



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: All the Cecil-Whump, Carlos is a Good Boyfriend, Cecil has Lyme Disease, Gen, M/M, Sick Cecil, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 20:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeb/pseuds/steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil spends his day off in bed from symptoms of Lyme Disease.  Carlos stays home from the lab to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lyme

**Author's Note:**

> In the first episode, Cecil states that he's battling Lyme Disease. This is never resolved or referred to again (at least up until the time this was written). Now excuse me while I sneak out the back screaming "this is dumbbbbbbbbbb" as I leave

Before Carlos moved to Night Vale, Cecil spent his days off from the studio either sipping wine in his apartment while surfing municipally approved channels on his old television or lounging around a bloodstone circle in a half-hearted chant just to pass the time.  Some weekends he varied his routine; he went bowlingwith Old Woman Josie when she could tear herself away from the angels evry few months.  And once he went star-tanning early in the morning while much of the town slept.

Then Carlos arrived and Cecil's entire routine went haywire.  He spent his weekends with Carlos watching him run scientific experiments on grass, or listening to the machinery run in the lab as Carlos went on and on about how Night Vale "shouldn't even exist" or "doesn't actually have traceable coordinates."  Then after a year or so they spent their weekends with each other for different reasons.  Carlos would cook while Cecil tidied up the apartment, or Cecil would roll over in bed to shut Carlos' laptop while he was working and cuddle the scientist to sleep.  His bloodstone circle eventually made its way to Carlos' living room, their separate grocery shopping eventually went to a single location, and piece by piece Cecil's clothes accumulated at Carlos' apartment.

Cecil received a message from the City Council at the station one Monday telling him that if the rest of his belongings were not in the scientist's apartment by the end of the week (Sunday if one of the other days happened to become misplaced), there would be consequences.

Carlos asked him if they could make a home together well before that.  Uncharacteristically, Cecil did  _not_ jump at the opportunity.  How soon after the beginning of a relationship should two people move in together?  What were the rules on such a thing?  Every end-of-date report he filed left vague instructions and chants for the next date, but never gave a timeline as to what behavior was "too soon" and what should wait for approval by the City Council.  Either way, Cecil took his time.

They needed a few weekends to sort through all their stuff.  Carlos did not have much to begin with (honestly it would have made more sense for Carlos to move into Cecil's), but for the first month they crashed into each other and bumped their knees on the overflow of furniture.  Most Saturday nights were spent arranging their possessions or tossing what they would not need.  They typically ate their meals on the floor due to the abundance of clothing that covered nearly every surface in the living room (which contained their dining table).  But it was enjoyable; Carlos would eat his cereal in the mornings against Cecil who sat behind him and played with Carlos' hair.

It took roughly two months worth of weekends before they could finally say they were moved in together.

And they would have celebrated, except the following Saturday Cecil spent in bed.  Typically Carlos woke much earlier than Cecil, but as Night Vale's version of noon crept closer, Carlos grew worried.  He finished wiping down the counter before shuffling down the hallway and peeking into their bedroom.  Despite the glaring sun outside, Cecil had both the blinds and the curtains drawn.  Not quite pitch black, but dark enough that Carlos could barely see Cecil's pale skin.  As soon as the light hit him, Cecil groaned.

"Cariño? Are you alright?"

Cecil muttered into the pillow and waved a pale hand at the door.  For a moment Carlos stood in his spot trying to decide if Cecil was actually mumbling or speaking some strange and extinct language.  After a silent moment, Carlos moved into the room and shut the door behind him.  He carefully pulled back the sheets to their bed (Cecil's sheets mixed with a blanket provided by Carlos), then slid into the open space.  Cecil lay on his side, shirtless with his back exposed to Carlos' front.

"Hey you, you can't lay in bed all day," Carlos whispered against Cecil's shoulder, kissing the skin of his neck.  Cecil's skin felt as though it were on fire.

Not only on fire, but Cecil's skin was also slick with sweat.  As soon as Carlos touched his forehead Cecil moaned in appreciation.  "Carlos, that feels so nice," he drawled as though he just tasted something delicious.  "That feels perfect."

Cecil's tattoos slithered along the back of his neck and tried to curl around the coolness of Carlos' hand.  Tattoos that did  _not_ move quivered in place as though unable to find a comfortable spot.  "Querido, you're burning up," Carlos whispered as he probed other spots with the back of his hand.  "Give me one second, I need to get something."  Whether or not Cecil actually heard him, Carlos didn't stay long enough to find out.  He sped to their bathroom and tore through the medicine cabinet for the temple-scan thermometer he used to keep in his lab.  Cecil discovered it one day and used it to play with his tattoos by dragging it up and down his arms, watching as the purple shapes chased after it like a cat interested in a laser-pointer.  As Carlos dragged it across Cecil's forehead, the tattoos ignored the thermometer.

"104.8."

Outside Night Vale, Cecil would be dead.

And Carlos would be much more worried if they were outside of Night Vale, but  _inside_ Night Vale that was a very mid-grade fever.  He laid the thermometer on their cluttered side-table and kissed Cecil's forehead, wiping some of his bangs away from his forehead.  " _Pobrecito,_ what can I do to make it better?  What's hurting you?"

"Everything."

Carlos chucked against Cecil's forehead.  "Be more specific, baby."

"Like, my knees hurt.  And my neck, my head hurts so much but I'm so tired, Carlos.." Cecil droned on until he was muttering into the pillow once again.  "And this spot on my back keeps itching but I can't reach it."

"Where? I don't see anything," Carlos poked at Cecil's back in various places.  "Let me turn on the light for a moment, I'm sorry, amor, I know it's too bright."  He spoke as if he were calming an overgrown toddler.  With the light on, Carlos could see the spot Cecil was talking about.  In the middle of his back his skin reddened in an odd pattern, one noticeably different from his tattoos.  He prodded at the large spot and felt the scaliness with his fingers.

"That's a rash, querido."  Now Carlos was legitimately worried.  He felt around his robe for his cellphone, then spun around the room to find it on the floor.  Cecil's bowling ball held it protectively in the corner and growled at Carlos when he bent to retrieve it.  "Shut up, ball, you're too opinionated for a spherical object."  

Cecil rolled himself over to see the commotion but decided he was too tired to scold the bowling ball.  As Carlos dialed the number for the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex, Cecil yanked and tugged at the sheets until he had them securly around his shoulders.  Despite the fever, he felt cold.

"Hey, Teddy--yeah, yes it's Carlos.  Yeah, not great.  Listen, Cecil is sick; do you think you could make a house call tonight after the bowling alley closes?  Fever of 104.8, rash, clammy skin, generalized pain, headache, extreme fatigue.  The rash?  Big round circle on his back."  Carlos dropped himself on the bed and listened carefully to Teddy Williams' instructions.  "Lyme Disease?  Like, from a tick bite?"  He looked back at Cecil and watched him doze, a pained expression on his face.  Cecil _never_ got sick.  The City Council made sure of it.  Most of the time.

Carlos hung up the phone after Teddy Williams told him to call back if the symptoms grew worse, unsure of what exactly to do.  Could Cecil take some kind of medication?  What kind of dose would he even need?  A few moments of frantically chewing at his nails and Carlos was at a loss.  This was not something he could _mmny_ _eh-science_ his way out of.  People were not science.  Cecil was not science.  Cecil was fascinating, like science, but a cosmic mystery.  The phone lit up suddenly and chirped, waking Cecil.  A message appeared from Williams: _Sheriff's Secret Police told me to bring antibiotics. Will be there at 10:42 exactly. Maintain Radio Silence._

 _  
_"What does it say?" Cecil now had himself wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets, his face sticking out over the top.  Carlos clicked his phone off and set it on top of the side table (far away from the bowling ball), dropping himself back into bed.

"He said he'll bring you some medicine later tonight.  Why didn't you tell me about this?"

Cecil stretched out his legs to ease the discomfort in his knees.  "I didn't think it was important."

"Oh, querido," said Carlos, scooting himself closer and pushing more sweaty bangs out of Cecil's eyes. "You're the most important person in my life.  When you're sick, half of me is sick.  And the other half worries."

"I thought it cleared up.  It usually goes away after a day or two but this morning it was just really bad, I tried to not let it bother me but-"

"Heyhey, shhh.  Just relax, okay?  Go back to sleep, I'll be here.  I'll be here whenever it hurts."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

**Author's Note:**

> (Watch the live show to see what "mnyeh-science" means)


End file.
